1390.

In one of those coffeebars downtown Accra, Mr. Precuneus just had his morning coffee when he overheard some very yellow-faced American tourists talking wildly about a project of retraining some cancer, what, thought Mr. Precuneus, they wish to retrain cancer, are they running a gym for cancers, well, where, if not here, he went on in his thougts, dropped his coins into the boy's hand and slipped out of the door.